


Guardian

by dreampadamoose



Category: Supernatural
Genre: ? - Freeform, I'm pretty damn sure Angel's are non human but can be male so, M/M, Supernatural - Freeform, tags?, uh..
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 10:04:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreampadamoose/pseuds/dreampadamoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Team Free Will find another angel in the bunker. He's a guardian angel. More specifically, Dean's gaurdian angel. Dean falls in love, and soon, Castiel grows Jealous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guardian

Sitting in the bunker, he would’ve thought it would be… nice, to enjoy a sandwich, now, but in truth, it really isn’t. All collective molecules, perfectly aligning in rows and columns sitting on a plastic-wrapped ball pit of scrubbed squeaky-clean taste buds. Then they were smeared across the roof of his mouth and inner sides of his teeth. It was disgusting, to say the least.

Like eating playdo. He had tried it once he was able to taste and he regretted it.

“I miss you PB and J,” Cas whispered, looking sadly at his sandwich. Cheeseburgers were alright but he had gone passed the point of attempting to eat any more food today.

The door swung open as Cas turned and prepared to offer his sandwich, but neither Sam or Dean were at the door (forgetting to considering both were in the kitchen.) A dark-haired man in a black long coat weakly stepped in, with a tired, but relieved smile on his face.

“Who are you?” He stood up vigilant and readied his angel blade as he spoke. Not _his_ per se but it worked nonetheless.

“Cas, what is–” Dean poked his head out from the door into the dining room and then unconsciously pulled out his gun from his holster and as did Sam. Alert, defiant, protective.

But the man in front of him was an angel. He didn’t recognize him or his grace, and due to the fact that he could not read his mind (or anyone else’s for that matter), he was left with no answers of identity.

He kept his arm to the right of him, and twisted his angel blade cautiously.

Yet there was something. His swept across the vessel’s face. Dirt and sweat smudged against the skin. He watched the straight eyebrows stay permanently together, in a confused expression, his cream face and peach fuzz aligned around the almost bright pink, loosely pursed lips and smooth-edged triangle jawline. He watched his light olive, almost intricately carved out, iris membranes holding in light blue as they gazed hazily and almost innocently along the three persons.

Deeper.

Internal clock working squeezed within a meat and skin mask of taken identity, full of entwined strings of celestial gas stuck against gears and cogwheels of light green and colors that humans could not see. Naturally, these colors were intense and did not burn lightly. Relatively normal.

He straightened his attention, staring back at the wings, barely peeking out behind the vessel’s shoulders, poking through the black long coat and brushing against the raised collar that pressed against the neck.

Broken and scrap remains of bone and ligament held together bare flesh and greasy green and black feathers, dipped in crimson on the ends. Was to be expected. _The fall had done this. I’m so sorry._

But there was more, as the angel branched out the wings a little more, rubbing the ends against the tile of the bunker. Some bits fell off in doing so. Figures, symbols – letters of Enochian decorated and were pasted roughly along each tissue, repeating one word, symbol, – a name over and over again.

_Oh._

Only nearly ten seconds had passed but he knew what he was. He took a step back.

“Cas, what is it? Who is he?” Cas would have said something, as he was usually the one to speak first instead of action, but he simply stared back at Dean. An answer would do well for him but he couldn’t say anything as the words stuck to his tongue.

 “Do you know how hard it was for me to find and get to you?”

Dean’s confused anger was cut off by the angel’s speaking, as the man swayed a little and attempted to walk up to him.

“Take one more step and you’re toast. Now you’re going to…”he locked eyes and paused for a second and shivered.  “… You’re going to tell me who you are, and maybe Cas won’t go all biblical on you. Neither will I. Cas, who the hell is this guy?”

“You can put the gun away, you know. It won’t help. Or do anything for that matter. Special bullets or not.” The man raised an eyebrow and smirked throughout his words tilting his head towards Sam, who was gripping it cautiously, though he relaxed his face and tilted his chin up at Dean. He simply turned his eyes towards the angel blade.

“Another pretty boy dick of an angel I’m guessing,” Dean retorted, then repeated his original question to Cas, _Who the hell is this guy?_ , cueing silence soon after but the answer never came. Dean narrowed his eyes suspiciously, turning towards him.

The angel sighed a little. “Do you not know who I am?”

“Dean…” Castiel swallowed and bit the inside of his lips. “There is a special class of angels called Gaurdians. Unlike soldiers, they don’t… their purpose is not ‘taking orders’ from God or higher powers. They’re assigned… to protect... certain souls.”

This was… difficult.

“Guardian angels? Do those even exis–”

Dean’s eyes widened ever so slightly.

“What are you implying?”

Pretty-boy Guardian simply smiled at Dean. Sam turned towards his older brother, then at the angel, eyes silently emphasizing what was happening.

Now they were using their usually inscrutable silent communication, which usually took seconds to transpire, silent eyes and now the occasional look of something similar to trying to that of hiding the pain of being kicked in the testicles. Castiel understood what was being thought. Sam had already figured it out.

“Sammy?”

“We’ll you’re a hard-head, now aren’t you? Now I can cut you some slack for figuring it out before I even said anything, but then again it was a bit obvious, to him at least,” he tilted his head at Cas. Dean gave what he would call, a bitch face.

“Son of a bitch, you have got to be joking.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt from wisepuma23. Please exscuse me. The creative process has been slow and this is my first work.


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